Single mom, two kids, everyday adventures.

So every morning I walk to work and I pass a diner about 2 blocks from my office. And every time I pass it, I envision my ideal world where I start my day with a walk and then curl into a cup of coffee surrounded by folks making a low buzz of noise while I enjoy my buzz of caffeine. I would pull out my notebook and write. There’s something about the combination of fresh air, movement and the early hour that makes me tingly with creativity. I’m bursting with thoughts that deserve recording but they typically lose their momentum before my next chance to write on my lunch break. (long live #WriteClub).

Today was a PA Day. Moxie was at a sleepover. Rain was snoozing. And I decided to leave early and head to the diner before work. I didn’t leave quite as early as I’d hoped but I still made it. I still wrote in my journal while enjoying the low buzz around and inside of me. And it felt fucking awesome. It felt like possibility. And I think I can do this. Maybe not the way I envisioned it but right now, that doesn’t matter. Because it still feels fucking awesome. And isn’t that what life is all about? Not waiting for the perfect moment or the perfect opportunity. But weaving some of our ideal world into our current limitations. Making things work. for us. because why wouldn’t we want things to work out? why wouldn’t we want things to feel fucking awesome? Right now.

My goal is to do this one day/week because A) despite what I just told you, I’m really not a morning person; and B) My budget will not stretch enough for coffee every day. Maybe I’ll start leaving earlier? Maybe I’ll hit different diners every week? Or maybe I’ll become a regular here? Time will tell. But for now, I’ll just enjoy the buzz.

Basically the premise is that you identify your core desired feelings and use them as a guiding post in life. Focus on how you want to feel, rather than what you want to achieve. (And I am a big time feeler from way, way back!)

I haven’t completed the program (yet) but I have listened to the 3-hour overview podcast about a dozen times this month (maybe it’s time to splurge and buy the book!). Since then, in times of emotional turmoil, my inner voice has shifted from ‘ugh. I feel shitty’ to ‘how do I want to feel right now’. Sometimes I scream back “NOT LIKE THIS!!!!!” but then I stop. Breath. And regroup.

“I want to feel peaceful.”

Believe it or not, it works.

And if I’d written this post last week, I would have told you how empowered and in control I felt. (In fact, I actually did brag a bit on IG) How despite the fact that I am taking on a multitude of new projects, I’m excited and managing shit like a rock star. I was focused on my desired feelings and dammit, I was feeling them.

However.. that was last week. Currently I am actually writing this in the midst of a two day, melodramatic, all-consuming, foot-stomping funk. And let me tell you, this falls into the “This is not how I want to feel” category!

I often hate going public when I’m feeling shitty because inevitably I receive the well intentioned advice to use positive affirmations and to look on the bright side of things. But the idea of telling myself to focus on the positive, kinda makes me gag. I never really knew why it felt so icky to me (I mean, what’s wrong with being positive?) But Danielle nailed it when she said, in these situations, ‘positive affirmations can feel like a bullshit pickup line.’

#Preach

The last thing I need right now is fake cheer. (insert your favourite fake news joke).

In order to feel better (read: get myself centred), I will focus on my core desired feelings. By reminding myself of how I really want to feel, I haven’t invalidated what’s currently happening. This is key for me – I’m a firm believer of moving through every emotion rather than dodging them. It also interrupts my mental complaining voice and points me into the direction of what I really want. This will inevitably lead to positivity (in it’s proper place) and open my heart to what is possible. And in the words of Danielle it can help me ‘lighten up and stop being an asshole.’ Hey Danielle – you should meet Jen Pastiloff (if you haven’t already) – she has an awesome “don’t be an asshole” segment which I borrowed for a video blog once.

A couple of weeks ago, I met my fabulous pal for a writing date on my lunch break. We started with a stream of thought writing process and then finished with haikus ’cause

I only had 4o minutes to write

who doesn’t love a good haiku

haikus remind us of our missing (sniff) writing date comrade who is currently residing on the more summery side of the world

My stream of thought turned out to be a ramble about what I wanted 2018 to feel like. I had only just begun listening to Desire Map but it had already seeped into my ink. I wrote about how 2018 would feel calm and smooth. Not to be mistaken with boring. (I gots to have intensity and adrenaline in my life!) There just wouldn’t be any sharp edges. Nothing poking me in the gut that cuts into my breathing. No sharp edges into my thoughts that give me headaches and pulsing anxiety. I want to feel…smooth. As I played around with my words, I saw the rounded corners in 2018. I turned my page sideways, the 8 became an infinity symbol. And suddenly, the possibilities were endless. I want to feel empowered. I want to feel calm. I want to feel divinely feminine. I want to feel free. I want to feel happy. I just want to feel what I want to feel.

Year twenty eighteenNo sharp edges to be foundGiggles. Breathing. Calm.

I’ve been thinking a lot about grief lately. (full disclosure: I’m always thinking a lot about grief). I don’t want to brag, but I’m kind of a grief expert. It’s been a constant presence in our lives for over three years and I’ve studied it from all angles. Well… I’ve studied our own grief.

It so happens, we don’t actually own the monopoly in this area. Shocking, right?

My daughter’s BFF lost her dad just over a year ago and my boyfriend lost his partner and mother of their son just over 2 years ago.

Sometimes I look around our ever expanding kitchen table and wonder if I’m actually running a support group for kids who’ve lost a parent (donations welcome), but holy fuck am I ever glad we all found each other.

Because of them, I’m stepping out of our world and witnessing grief from an outside lens. I’m learning that grief is different for everyone and that we all manage it in different ways. I’m learning not to push my own ways of coping onto others (even though I *am* an expert). And as I loosen the reigns on my ownership of grief, I’m also expanding my definition. Grief comes in all shapes and sizes and it’s not all about losing a parent or spouse. With any loss comes grief.

In fact, grief is not even always about missing the person. It’s often more about the missed opportunities. It’s about knowing there’ll never be another chance to try again. It’s about being forced to give up that picture in your head of what things are supposed to look like. It’s about acknowledging (through clenched teeth) that you just can’t save everyone. (you can repeat this back to yourself if you need to: You Can Not Save Everyone.)

According to the textbooks, we lost the kids’ Dad due to a “traumatic death”. Yes, it was sudden and traumatic and in many respects it was different than losing someone who had battled a (more visible and socially acceptable) disease for years. And yes, for me grief and trauma are so intertwined that I am incapable of discerning where one joyride ends and the other takes over. But does it matter? Isn’t all death traumatic? From what I’ve witnessed around my kitchen table death club, grief is grief (trauma included, free of charge).

Other free bonuses to grief include (but are not limited to) the following:

impossible sleep patterns.

separation anxiety.

random triggers.

Let me say that again (because clearly, I like repetition). Grief is impossible fucking sleep patterns, separation anxiety to the max and random triggers outta nowhere! All of which can apparently go on for three years and counting. There is a common understanding in our group, that people you love could disappear. Sometimes without warning. But even if you have warning, you’re never really ready. Which is probably why sleeping is so hard.. zzzz….. oh wait, where was I?

And so we’re gentle with each other. We fist pump each other as we take turns with exhaustion. We’re learning to recognize the special blend of melancholy that shows up in ourselves and each other and hold space for that to happen. We’re not trying to fix things because we don’t really want, or need to be fixed. Grieving is good. Get that shit out. Cry. Bathe yourself in sage smudges. Stamp your feet. Scream at the injustice of life. Scream at the people who tell you to just be positive and that good things happen to good people. Fuck that. Bad shit happens to good people every single day, no matter how positive you are. Everyone around my kitchen table knows that. Mark special dates and anniversaries and celebrate them. In my (expert) experience, even if you try to ignore them, they’ll creep up behind you. And while you’re celebrating, celebrate life with as much exuberance and ridiculousness as you can muster. We may be sleep-deprived and a little anxious but we certainly know how to have a good time.

If you are grieving (and who isn’t), find your space at a kitchen table or make room for others at your own. Who cares if they aren’t experiencing exactly the same kind of grief as you. Always cook more food than you need. Set extra placemats for those who just show up. No judgement. No fixing. Don’t worry – there will be an abundance of love and laughter (particularly if you’ve developed a fondness for dark humour, like the rest of us). We’ve got this. We’ve got each other.

Amendment: As I was just about to post, I learned that a friend from high school has passed away. She was part of my kitchen table club (from afar) since her husband died a couple years ago. We hadn’t seen each other in over 20 years but would send occasional messages of support and stories of the trials and tribulations of raising kids from this unique perspective. She was a beautiful soul and a loving mother and my heart is breaking beyond control for her family. Please keep them in your thoughts.

This year we celebrated your day in typical birthday style; with your favourite food (meat!) and a round of “Happy Birthday Dad” before diving into cake. As always, we talked about you lots (do your ears burn in the afterlife?) and shared funny memories, most of which have been told millions of times but never cease to bring a smile to our faces.

I’m sure you had no idea that your birthday is the day after World Suicide Prevention Day and that you took your life during Mental Health Week. I mean it’s not like you were following suicide survivors or mental health experts on Twitter – Hell neither was I back then. But regardless, I have no doubt that you would find some twisted humour in this irony and find comfort that they are another reassurance that I couldn’t forget these dates if I tried.

The last message I received from you was asking me to tell the kids that their cat had found his way home (apparently he had wondered off during their visit with you – I’m guessing too many love squeezes from little kids). I’m not going to lie, I rolled my eyes at your insistence. It was a busy week. I was trying to wrap my head around your recent behaviour and this seemed pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But now, looking back, I’m glad I attested that the message had been passed along and they were relieved at the news.

You loved our kids, first and foremost. I know that. They know that. And if nothing else, these anniversaries are a natural opportunity for me to continue to reassure them of your love. The week before you died you told me I was a good mom and that you knew I would always take great care of them. I told you that they needed you too but I’m not sure you heard me…

Since your death I’ve been angry, sad and terrified that you left this parenting thing all up to me. You should be here too – sorting out the hockey season, meeting new teachers, dealing with (pre) teen complexities and just watching them grow with me. Despite our separation, I never wanted to do this alone. Lucky for me (and our kids), we have found an amazing tribe and feel less alone than ever before.

For the longest time after your death, the kids and I just clung to each other to keep safe. I hadn’t realized how much so until recently. It was a necessary part of our grieving and sometimes we still cling. But slowly, we’ve opened ourselves up. We’re working through our grief, we’ve survived more disappointment and fall-outs and now, we are regaining our trust in the world. Things are good.

So this year for your birthday I just want you to know that the kids are alright. They’re strong, creative, inquisitive individuals who hold a love for this world deep in their hearts. They are a perfect blend of both of us (obviously they are most like you when they drive me crazy and say things that make me roll my eyes). We talk about you often, not just on special dates. They miss you terribly but we’re doing good.

Happy birthday, Hoop.

love,
e

#TeamAdventurers
Twitter: @pixiepaperdoll7
Instagram: @pixiepaperdoll

Addendum:

For those of you who have been following our journey for the past 3 years or those who have just discovered us today, thanks for your time. While my intent was never to be a mental health advocate (I write for my own head clearing), I am always incredibly honoured and humbled when people reach out to me with their own stories of how mental health has touched their lives and how in turn, my writing has affected them.
While I am happy to start a conversation and to help assure you that YOU are not alone, I am also not a mental health expert.
If you or someone you love is struggling with depression, please know that there is professional support available.
For those of you living in Ontario, contact The Mental Health Helpline at 1-866-531-2600.

The sun shines brighter.
Food tastes yummier.
Even the dreariest days are just an invitation to curl up and breathe in some stolen moments.

I’m heading back to work in the morning after 10 extraordinary days filled with intimate acoustic shows in coffee shops, fits of giggles on my deck with lifetime friends, piles of books, bike ride dates, dreamy afternoon naps, kayaks, heart pressing hugs, a meditation retreat, family reunions and so much love.

I am currently so blissed out that nothing can faze me nor prepare me for my return to reality in the morning (mere hours away).

I’m wearing a special blend of denial and a sweet conviction that I can keep this feeling alive in a world of alarm clocks, deadlines, meetings and meal-planning.

A close friend and I used to describe this feeling as a vacation high and when we would return to work (typically after exotic getaways), we would rally together to help each other keep it as long as possible. #VacationHighForever

This time, I’m lucky. I only have to keep the high for 2.5 days at work and then I’m off again on a first ever blended-family camping trip for a week!! (Now there’s an adventure – stay tuned!)

But really, aside from the obvious… what is stopping us from keeping (at least a portion of) vacation bliss all the time?

This break in routine has really shaken something loose in me. Or rather, it’s confirmed and emphasized the importance of leading with my heart.

No matter what is happening around me, I need to take time to pause and listen. If the vibration is out of synch with my natural rhythm, it’s best to move on to option B (or C, or D, or T).

Life is not a competition. It’s not about who can win more, earn more or do more. It’s also not about being able to do whatever I want and have everything work out perfectly (because trust me, that did not happen on vacation either).

It’s about knowing that there is an abundance of love and beauty for everyone. And accepting it with an open heart.
It’s about keeping my actions in line with my priorities.
It’s about holding space for others, without the ownership of being responsible for them.
It’s about waking up every morning with a heart full of gratitude.

Because at the end of the day (work day, vacation day, retirement day, Saturday..) it just keeps coming back to love.

So, find love. Find beauty. Find bliss. Accept them into your heart and express your gratitude daily. Keep your high as long as you possibly can.

I’m pretty sure that my boyfriend had his son’s summer fully planned (campgrounds booked, summer camps registered, family visits scheduled) in March. I’m also pretty sure that was when I was first asked to submit my own summer vacation requests at work.

Yo guys. It’s still snowing. I can barely make plans to put on real pants and leave the house let alone plan my summer.

The actual date of my final vacation request submission: June 27th (2 days before the last day of school).

I’m not much of a planner. (this is the secret to all of my kick-ass road trips!)

And to be fair, Rain and Moxie are now old enough that they don’t need constant adult supervision, nor do they want it. Trust me, I’ve put in my time of coordinating 10 weeks of summer. I’m done.

But mostly, I just didn’t want to.

I didn’t want to have to wake them up before work and drag them out of bed to make lunches for summer camp.

I didn’t want to spend hours searching out summer vacation spots and all the logistics that go along with that. (how many pairs of underwear do we need? did we pack enough food?)

I didn’t want to feel like I was rushing all summer long to cram as much awesomeness down our throats in fear that otherwise we’d be wasting this time sensitive and precious season.

I was at work and the kids were home all day. They stayed up late every night reading, giggling and sneaking their iPads while I slept (somewhat) soundly in my upstairs bedroom.

They slept late every morning. I left a note with a couple chores to do and reminders (eat breakfast, brush teeth, put clothes on…). The first couple days, they spent a LOT of time on their iPads. In their pjs. Typically in bed. Food was optional. As was teeth-brushing. (So much for my reminders).

I’ve never really set limits on screen time. Mostly because they’ve always been able to self-regulate at a pace I can live with so it didn’t seem worth the hassle of timing, tantrums and god forbid – planning – their screen time usage for the day!

And sure enough this week they did decide on their own to go outside to play road hockey, climb their favourite trees at the end of the street and they traded their iPads for paper (books/drawing/writing).

On their second day home, they biked downtown to the Farmer’s Market. I’d suggested they could go get a snack with their allowance. Moxie bought 4 tarts and Rain bought a whole pie, all of which became their entire lunch that day. (Eat lunch. check).

The next day they biked to the beach (fresh air AND exercise!). This also included a stop at Mister Convenience where they pooled their money so Rain could get some groovy new sunglasses and Moxie could get candy. (Eat lunch. Check.)

By the end of the week they were on their iPads less and less. They rediscovered the giant Lego bin and they (along with the neighbours) spent hours in our living building all sorts of creations.

I’ve also started a musician of the week activity where they have to listen to 3 songs by a featured artist and be prepared for a family discussion about them and their music at the end of the week. First was Joni Mitchell, this week is Run DMC.

Rain is also playing baseball a couple nights/week and refereeing soccer about once/week. (you gotta make some dough to buy the pies)

All in all it was a pretty rad week.

This week they’re spending about 4 days at my parents. No doubt, they will all have a blast!

Me? I’m working and living the easy summer life at home with Lucy. She totally feels me on this summer lifestyle thing.

I’m also learning how to fix my bike up at our community bike hub, checking out (mostly free) live music in town whenever I can, going for runs around the lake and spending a lot of time on my back deck with popsicles. I love the slow pace of hanging my clothes on the clothesline, stopping at the farmers market before work and picking herbs out of my garden. Nothing epic to see here…just bliss.

And secret confession? Tonight’s the first night they’re gone and despite my list of things I was going to get done around the house, I’ve brought home take-out, went for a run and then just sat outside on the deck writing for hours. (apparently I follow check-lists as well as Rain and Moxie do in the summer.)

The kids will be back home by the weekend and they’ll have about a week and a half before the next grandparent trip.

Maybe they’ll spend it sleeping, eating sugar and staring at a screen until their eyes are completely glazed over. They’ll survive.

Guys look, I love adventure. I mean, I love it in a way that burns through my veins and gives me cravings that keep me up at night. And if you are off having an epic adventure somewhere in the world, I will definitely feel pangs of envy. But right now, I’m pushing the summertime easy button and it’s kinda like magic.